Everything will be alright, I promise
by robinishere
Summary: Moive based. What will happen if Clint didn't get up after his crash through the window from the Stark building, and there is more than that? Please review!
1. 1 Breathe

**I know that this is a bit too short, but i'm just trying and see how it can work out.**

**Breathe**

Everything was so hazy. The colors blended together and he couldn't see anything expect for red. Maybe it's because of the glass embedded itself in his eyelids or because he was lying in it. His body was numb and even lifting his own arms seemed as if he was lifting a whole thousand kilograms. He tried to shift his body an inch to try to relieve the caused by lying on his quiver. But instead, his system got overloaded with it.

"Agent Barton? Agent Barton report your status." Steve's voice crackled through his earpiece. Clint drew in a breath to reply, but he got a mouthful of blood and ended up choking on it.

"Agent Barton?" With all his remaining strength, he rolled to his side, biting back a scream as his already broken ribs rubbed together. "Yes, Capt?" He tried to make his voice strong, but it came out as a weak whisper.

"Are you okay? How bad are your injuries?"

"Not in the greatest form, I think I've busted a few ribs…"

"Really…?" Came Natasha's sarcastic reply. However, Clint knew otherwise. He could hear the concern and worry underlining beneath it.

"I- I don't know. Every movement hurts. I can't exactly feel my legs… " He hated admitting but the fact that he can't even get up changes his exceptions.

Everything seemed to be at a standstill. _'Holy shit. Did Clint Barton, the master marksman, also known as Hawkeye, just admitted being in pain?'_

"Where are you?" Another voice asked urgently- Tony.

_Great. Is everyone listening to his conversation?_

"Opposite the Stark-" This was all he could manage as he felt something rising up his throat. A cough overtook his body as he spat out blood.

But Steve got it and Clint could hear him barking out orders.

"Thor, get to the helicarrier and summon a medical team here. Tony, get Agent Barton and see how bad he is. Agent Romanoff, continue to speak through the com link to keep him awake until Tony gets to him. He may have a concussion. And Dr Banner…. We wait."

* * *

Tony activated his launches and made his way to the Stark building. He tried to ignore the fear and panic that has started to build itself at the bottom of his stomach. He could hear Natasha rambling whatever crap she that came into her mind and the waver in her voice. If the black widow is worried or afraid of something, that means business.

"Jarvis, locate Agent Clint Barton."

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**So? Do you like it, or it sucked? Please review and let me know how you feel! **


	2. 2 Desperation

**Seriously, i hadn't expect so much responses from you all. I just published the story yesterday and this morning when i checked my story, i was like "OMG!" It is my highest record ever and i'm REALLY grateful to all you- both reviewers and readers! So instead of publishing in the later days, i decided to update now and here it is! Hope that you all will like it. And please continue to review and tell me what you think! **

**I'm open to any ideas and improvements. **

**Desperation**

The world is tilting at a dangerous angle. There were people all around him, but he could barely make out each person, their features were a blur. Their forms seemed to mold together, creating one huge solid, ever changing mass.

He could hear their voices. So far away, just the faintest wisps of whispers. "Clint! Clint Barton, let me make this clear. Don't you even dare to go sleepy on me! If not, I'll kick your ass and make you do paperwork until you come crawling and begging on your knees to end your suffering. You hear me? Focus… Focus on me…" He tried to smile, to jump into his feet and shout, "SURPRISE!" But he was so tired…. Too tired to even twitch his bloodied facial features.

He could taste the familiar coppery liquid in his mouth. He doesn't even bother to spit them out anymore. It was always there. He wondered if his ever white and perfect teeth will be stained with it. Then, what would people call me then? _"Vampire eye? Red hawk?"_

He chuckled at this thought. But it only came out a wet, chest-rattling cough. He moaned and tried to shift into a more comfortable position. A hand rested itself gently on his chest, stopping him from any movements. So gentle that he barely felt it. It occurred to him that he his head was being propped up by something- a leg.

_God_. Seriously? He was lying in someone's lap?

With some difficulty, he blinked to clear the blackness invading his vision and focused on the face looking down at him.

_Oh. My. God_. Kill him now. It's not like he was very far away from death.

His pride and dignity were screaming at him that _this was_ not possible. That he was being delusional, that he was going into shock from the blood loss as he couldn't be lying in the world's top few billionaire, the "_I'm Tony godammed Stark! Look at me!_" 's lap.

As if reading his mind, the said person grinned (disgustingly) sweet and tapped Clint's nose lightly. "Hey, you should be honored, not many girls could get to even seat on my lap, no matter how pretty- faced and _curvaceous_ they are. Well, hmm, except for Pepper of course."

Clint groaned and tried to look murderous in his weakened and pain filled state.

"You should be grateful to me, you know. I brought you back down here from the building that you were _helplessly_ stuck in. Do you know how much effort I put in? I-"

"Enough of your drama, Stark." Came Steve firm voice, successfully cutting off Tony's knight in shining amour speech.

Good, old Steve, always coming in the right timings.

"Agent Barton? I need you to look at me." Clint's mind registered Bruce's gentle and soothing voice and managed to tilt his head towards his direction.

"Everything will be over soon, so just relax alright?" Bruce gave a tight smile while pulling out an injection filled with clear liquids that he had obtained from the medical team.

Clint eyed the injection suspiciously and was going retort something smart back when the fire in his lungs powered up again and he knew that this time, he won't be able to fight against it. He wanted to curl up into a ball and just _will_ the pain to go away, but the numbness in his legs wasn't exactly helping either.

"Don't worry. Papa will be watching over you." Despite the intended humor in the sentence, Clint could pick out the seriousness and concern lacing Tony's voice.

"I'll hold you to that..." Clint managed to say before everything faded into nothing.

It had been already four hours. Four hours since they handed Clint over to Bruce and the medical team. Four hours since they bandaged and cleaned themselves up. Four hours since they've been staring at the red lit sign, 'In operation,' Even Thor had returned from his trip to Asgard.

_But why weren't there any news about Clint?_

"Well, there is a saying that goes, 'No news means good news' right?" Thor asked abruptly, causing even Natasha to jerk her head up.

There was an awkward silence as Thor shifted his feet uncomfortably; he wasn't used to such deathly silence hanging delicately in the air. Being the god of thunder, he _love _to hear loud sounds and the way the air was all active and vibrant around him.

"We should trust them." Steve continued, deciding to end Thor's misery. "We should trust both Clint and Bruce. Bruce is great with hands. He knows his stuff and-"

"Clint is way too stubborn to die just because of smashing through a damm window," Natasha continued softly.

There were slight smiles as silence fell over them again. But this time, there was something among them; _a small flickering fire_.

_Hope._

* * *

**Just to let you know that i definitely will not let Clint die. i love him too much for that. XD**


	3. 3 Struggle

**So so sorry! I really suck, i know. I'll try to update more often, so don't be angry with me kay? *Peace*****Well, i didn't manage to touch the computer at all last week as i was just so busy with school and my parents were kind of reluctant to let me use the computer as i scored a C for english. *Cringe* And now... since they aren't at home so.. yeap. **

**Hope that you will like this chapter and please review!**

* * *

**Struggle**

_A feeble twitch in his fingers._

_A slight jump under his eyelids._

_A hitch in his breath._

Hopeful eyes swiveled their gazes on the body in the bed. "Clint?"

There were no groans, no cries from the said person. Just… _silence._

"Agent Barton. Clint, can you hear me?" Bruce asked his voice soft but firm. An increase in the beeping of machines was his only response. Everyone tensed, waiting for…. _Something._

The mask over his face got misted up much more easily as his breath came out in rushed gasps. His eyes squeezed forcefully shut, his hands clenched into fists until his knuckles went white.

"Clint?" Natasha questioned, stepping forward lightly to get closer look at her partner, but Bruce knew better. She was letting her presence known to him, to let him know that he was having support. That he wasn't _alone._

But something was wrong. Both Bruce and Natasha knew it. The way Clint was responding didn't seem right. It was like he wanted to hide away; his head was turned to one side, away from them. From Bruce's experience, people who normally regained conscious from a large amount of anesthetic should react _towards _the noise, rather than _away_ from it.

"Oi, Hawk-" Tony started.

Then it happened.

With a strangled cry, his eyes flew open as his hands shot up, his body bucked against the bed.

"Clint!" Natasha grabbed both of his hands and slammed them by his sides. She winced as Clint gave another cry and tried to push her off balance. She wasn't kidding, but it took all her strength to restrain his arms.

She saw a blur of moment as Steve sprinted forward and helped Natasha by pushing his shoulders down. His eyes were open, darting frantically around the room, but they were blank, seeing but not seeing.

"Agent Hawk!" Thor roared, using his godly lung power to jerk Clint back into awareness.

"It's Agent Barton, and next time, please please _pleeaaseee_, don't scream unless you are kilometers away from me." Tony remarked, which was ignored by everyone.

But it seemed to have an effect on Clint as his body fell limp as his breath came in pained gasps instead.

Bruce stood by Clint again; ready to insert another injection filled with sedatives, but Natasha stopped him, shaking her head.

After what seemed like hours, the beeping of the machines steadied and the Avengers exhaled a breath of relief before disappointment washed over them.

It seemed like Clint won't be waking anytime soon.

* * *

Natasha didn't know what to do. This was ridiculous actually. She knows almost everything and she carries them out accordingly to the situation. In her mind, she will go through the steps and predict what would happen so as to be better prepared. There were no "What if", no "How.

But now, as she looked at the almost too pale body lying on the bed, her mind just went… _blank._

She felt something soft placed itself on her shoulders and glanced up. Steve's hand.

"He's strong, you said that yourself. When he wakes up and is aware of… his situation, he maybe a mess and even feel lost, so you need to be there… for him. He will need time, but he'll mange it. You know it. Why don't you go back to your room to clean up? Maybe to take a quick nap or something? Don't worry, I'll watch over him. Bruce also said that it will take a while before his body recovers from the previous attack."

Natasha hesitated a second before gracefully giving up her seat by the bed. "Not me."

"Huh?"

"Us. He needs us. Not only me." She said softly before closing the door with a quick 'click.'

Steve tried to make himself as comfortable as possible on the plastic squeaky chair. He stared at the motionless form on the bed. "You know," he started softly; "You can fight it. Everyone has trust in you. Everyone is waiting for you. So don't let us down. Fight it, fight it with all your might. You can do it."

_Fight it…_

_I can do it._

* * *

**So? Did i meet your expectations? **


	4. 4 Wrong

**Ta-da! There, next chapter. I've done my best by uploading as fast as i can and i'm feeling proud of myself. Okay, lols. XD But i wanna thank all my reviewers and readers! Thanks a lot! And WOW. I already have 6000 hits for this story so far. Thank you, really. **

**Love ya all~**

**Btw,there is a time skip between the previous and this chapter and i'll explain everything in the next chapter so ya, to prevent confusion. :)**

* * *

**Wrong**

Hazy vision? Ringing ears? Pain caused by the injuries?

Nope.

Clint felt perfectly alright when he first opened his eyes. It took him a while to wake his hibernating muscles, his eyelids fluttering weakly, like a hatchling. His vision blurred for a second as his pupils came in sudden contact with the cool air, but it focused immediately as the place he was in was registered as unfamiliar. His trainings and instincts kicked in he absorbed each and every detail of the room, finding blind spots that no one would had noticed.

The room was spacious- well, huge would have been the more accurate-with carpeted floor. A glass door was on his right, where he was lying, probably automatically operated. Expensive looking leather sofa and a small coffee table was a few meters away from him. A big plasma television with speakers beside a bookcase, that was diagonally right, that stretched all the way in front of him. There was a wooden door on his diagonally left that he assumed was the toilet.

He turned to his left and was rendered speechless, instead of where the windows and walls should be, it was replaced by a large window screen. He was to on a level that seemed impossible as there was no way that he could get such a view of New York, even from his bed.

Shaking his head and focusing on his task, he was lying on a kind sized four-poster bed. The mattress of the bed sunk snugly around his form and the bed sheets slid smoothly against his skin.

Whoever that owned this place must be stinky-rich. Not to mention that the room was designed with a very exquisite taste. The walls, the bed, the lights, was in purple.

Not that _kind_ of childish and girly purple, of course. But a type of purple that is dark and mysterious that have a manly feel. The lights were dimmed and instead of giving out white beams, the light was a shade of light purple.

What was weird was that Clint felt comfortable. He didn't feel threatened or panicky at all. Instead, he felt at ease… _safe._

He flexed his biceps and fists, smiling in satisfaction as he felt blood rushing through the veins. That was when he noticed a little tube connected to a needle inserted into his veins. He followed the tube up and saw a form of an IV drip that was hooked onto one of the bed's headboard.

An IV drip?

He frowned, what had happened to him that resulted him in needing an IV drip? Feeling his muscles all lazy and sluggish means that he had not been working out or moving at all. His head pounded as he tried to think, but he ignored the pain.

Images flashed through his mind, there were sounds and voices too, but as he reached forward to embrace them, they slipped through his fingers and disappeared into thin air.

Opening his eyes again, he tried to recall what the last thing he remembered was.

He was at the lab with Professor Selvig and Nick Fury… there were powerful beams and lights, then a man with a spear appeared, and….?

_What?_

Clint felt his body go cold as all he could think what had happened after that was…. _Nothing._

No, he can't just lie here. He has to go find answers.

He got up, or tried to, but there was something wrong with his legs. He pulled away the covers to reveal his legs and it suddenly hit him.

All this time, it didn't occur to him at all that _he has legs_. He was seeing his legs now, but he didn't, _can't_ felt them at all.

He reached for his thigh hesitantly, rubbing them with his thumb. _No feeling._

His heart sped up and he squeezed them, hard. _No pain._

He frozed. Panic and fear settled itself in him.

_What's wrong with him?_

* * *

**_Reviews~? ^^ It makes me have the motivation. _**


	5. 5 Mask

**Once again, i deeply apologize to all of you for the late update. I'll try my best to at least update once a week. It took me a hard time to write this chapter as i originally planned to make Clint to have head trauma and forget his memories plus to make him ahem (Not spoiling for this chapter), but i realized that this would be too serious and overboard. So the flow came out weird. but hope that you all won't mind. I really did my best already, but T.T. I think it is not as nice as other chapters. **

**if you all think that this story is getting worse, please tell me and even give me some suggestions as my plot bunnies are failing me. T.T**

**but no matter, i'll try my best and not let you all down. :)**

* * *

**Mask**

No…

No.

No.

No!

Clint forcefully pushed his legs to the side of the bed and onto the carpet. He unsuccessfully tried to slow down his rapid breathing and gave out a strangled cry. Tears starting to build up in his eyes. But he refused to let it fall.

The restriction of the throat, the slight blocking of the nose, the blurriness of his vision as his eyelids blinked rapidly from the intrusion.

But he held it back. He won't cry. _He can't._ He had slid on a blank mask to cover up his weak points all these years of nightmare, before SHIELD found him. He didn't cry when his parents died. He didn't cry as the pain racked through his body, the crack of whip echoing through the dark halls. He didn't cry when his dearest brother was turned against him.

Now, the mask is cracking, crumbling down, leaving him all vulnerable. _Weak._

He shook his head and bit his lips, trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

Maybe something happened and his messed up his muscle tendons. Yes that's right, maybe he was injected with lots of painkillers. Who knows how long he had been asleep.

Yes, this is just temporary. He will be running and climbing up trees and buildings in no time.

He braced his arms on the drawer beside his bed and pushed his arms up, straightening his shoulders and …. Back?

For a millisecond, he was in fact standing, but the next thing he knew, he was facedown onto the carpet.

Realization slammed into him as he reached a hand to his base of the spine and rubbed it gently.

He hands clenched into fists as it started to tremble. Tears started to run back into his eyes with renew effort and he knew that he was losing it. He couldn't stop it now.

He punched the floor and _screamed._

The next thing he knew, unfamiliar hands were grabbing at him and everything seemed to be _moving so fast._

Their voices were so loud and there was a loud wailing sound that sounded like some trapped animal, or was it himself?

Hands were at his shoulders shaking him, but he just shoved them away, trying to get a way out. He threw out a punch randomly and a there was a pained yell.

_Got you. _

He tried to stand up and just _run, _but his legs were useless. He could not even feel them, furthermore to _control them._

The hands were back again and it occurred to him that there was more than one person, he tried the same tactic, but this time, his hands were caught and pinned against his writhing body.

Unable to go anything, the panic inside him rushed up in full force and he screamed again.

His voice was cut off when his head was forcefully whipped to the side and pain blossomed from his cheek.

He then felt the soreness of his throat. The shapes of both people and things became more defined and he became painfully aware of the emptiness where his legs should have been.

"Calm down, I need you to calm down."

A soothing voice was heard from his right and he turned his head towards it. "That's right, take a deep breath….. and relax."

His vision was still unclear but he did as he as he was told. The burning of his lungs subsided and he realized he could see more clearly.

Then, another voice piped up, "I'm going to release you now, and place you back onto your bed. You are not going to attack me?"

Clint nodded hesitantly, they don't sound like an enemy. The pressure on his arms disappeared and he sighed in relieve from the feeling of blood rushing through his veins.

He felt himself being lifted up and allowed himself to relish in the softness of the bed. He blinked his eyes a couple more times and saw his intruders more clearly.

"Do you…. Remember us?" A man asked carefully, as if one wrong word could just break Clint apart.

"Bruce?"

The said scientist exhaled loudly in relief and relaxed visibly.

"Me?" Another man asked eagerly and Clint rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Tony. Steve, Thor and Nat."

Tony whopped in happiness and a smile graced Natasha's beautiful features, while Steve and Thor clapped Clint on the shoulders.

"So… what else do you remember?"

Clint hesitated. "I remember Professor Selvig and Nick Fury in the lab…. Then, there is blankness and I remember waking up in a room with Natasha and the fight… against someone…?"

"Loki? You don't remember him?"

Clint frowned, "Who is Loki?"

There was silence as everyone gave each other looks.

Finally Thor spoke, "He is someone of the past. It's not important right now."

Clint nodded, doubting Thor, judging the reaction from everyone. He took in a deep breathe to relax the rising panic inside him.

"And… What happened to me?"

"You played Tarzan, jumping off a building and injuring yourself very badly. All of us thought that we would lose you. But you showed signs of healing, but not waking up. You healed up nicely, so we decided to get you out from the blinding white room and moved you here. The stark tower." Tony explained, knowing where this was heading and trying to lighten up the mood, nursing his bruised cheek.

Clint nodded and looked expectantly at them, bracing himself for what to come.

"Look, Clint, you need to take this easy alright?" Steve winced inwardly.

"What?" Clint spat, his fear changing into anger.

"You landed heavily on your quiver, not to mention that your knees and feet tendons were injured from your crash through the window. Your legs just couldn't take the strain and you broke your spine. So…" Natasha said slowly, making sure that Clint absorbed every word that she was saying.

"There isn't any other ways. You undergo surgery for three times, we just couldn't fix your spine and-" Bruce started.

"Enough." Clint whispered, fisting the blankets, his body trembling.

"Clint-" Natasha tried.

" I-I just need a while. A while. So just leave me alone, _please?" _His voice broke at the end.

Natasha tried to continue but Steve shook his head.

When the rest of the avengers left, Clint exhaled a shaky breath.

For the first time of his twenty years, Clint Barton allowed the tears to fall.

The mask that he had painstakingly built, crumbled down leaving not even a single shattered piece_. _

'_You are always weak, take off your mask, and… You. Are. Nothing.' _

_I am nothing..._

* * *

**_So? Reviews make my day and bad things kept happening to me these few days. :( Btw, i like the colour of the review button, do you all feel the same way? o.o (Hint)_**


	6. 6 Key

**Yay, so another chapter done! i managed to push myself into writing longer chapters so hope that you all are satisfied! Don't you think i deserve some claps. Hahas. Lols. But this chapter is the longest among all the anothers and i spent like 3 hours writing this. So i'm feeling quite proud of myself. Do you all agree? :D**

**Key**

"So… now what?" Tony sighed heavily as the rest of the Avengers settled in his living room. The atmosphere among them seemed to be empty and awkward, without the usual companion of _another_ 's snarky mouth and witty mind. They've tried their best to bond, to talk with each other, but it usually ended with embarrassed clearing of throats and excuses. Yes, there are getting there with baby steps, but something is just… _missing._

So whenever they gather, Tony will not be exactly looking forward to it.

"Let's try to confirm the situation he is in, alright?" Steve's voice broke the silence _finally, _looking at Bruce expectantly.

"He appeared to have a slight head trauma, his memory is intact except for the fact that he forgot about Loki. He remembered the times that before we officially gathered and met. He remembered the times when we fought together. But against _who, _for _what? _"

"He can't remember." Thor confirmed, wincing slightly.

"I've met patients with this type of case and the memories that they forget are normally the more… " Bruce stopped, gesturing with his hands agitatedly, unable to find the right word.

"Not so memorable ones?" Tony offered.

Bruce frowned, "Not exactly the right word, but yes. Something like that."

"Who knows what Loki did to him…" Natasha trailed off.

"Wait. Does that mean that he does not know what happened to Coulson?" Tony said abruptly.

Silence was their only answer.

* * *

_Blood._

It was everywhere. It was on his hands, his face, his legs, and his body. It was still increasing in amount, making sure that the pure, silky skin was coated generously in it. It was so thick that he could barely see.

_Whispers._

"Don't worry, I will make sure that there is no scars left on you..."

_Hands. _

"I will make sure that at every cut is healed…"

_A touch._

"I will make sure that you kneel, begging that you will be rather dead…."

_Laughters._

"I will make sure that you will be screaming, both in mind and body…"

_An echoing crack._

_A toe-curling scream._

Clint shot out of his bed, clawing for air. His throat raw and eyes swollen.

_What was that?_

_Who_ was that?

He shook his head to clear and took few deep breaths to clear his heavy mind.

_It was just a dream. _

He swallowed drily, looking around for water and he realized that he was on the floor.

Oh well.

He strained his neck slightly and used his arms to pull himself up. Damm this bed for being so high.

He managed to push his upper body level to the bed when felt strong hands circling around his waist and giving him the extra boost he needed.

Pushing his disability at the back of his mind, he winced and turned himself around. Thank god he was an archer.

"Everything's alright?" Steve asked, his eyes seemed to carry so many burdens, sad even.

_Why is he sad?_

"I should be asking you that."

Steve blinked before a slight smile graced his lips. He shrugged carelessly, "But I asked you first."

A short laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, came out of Clint's lips. "Things aren't as good as you can see here." He gestured to his legs.

"And I don't think I can manage it." he whispered before he knew it.

He stared at his legs, willing them to feel the heat of his gaze, but _nothing._

"Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't want it happen." Steve caused Clint back to reality.

"I did not want a lot of things to happen, Steve. I did not want to be so afraid of my parents; always worrying that one wrong move could end my life by the people who began it first. I did not want to feel the relief and happiness even, when I heard that they died. I did not want to go to the damm circus. I did not want to kill my brother. I did not-" Clint bit his tongue, "Sorry, i- I'm rambling- I am talking too much."

"It's okay, "Steve soothed. "It's alright to say what you have been keeping inside your heart. Clint, look at me. Why are you embarrassed? Am I laughing? Am I doing the… what do you call it? The… poky face?"

Clint allowed a laugh to pass through his throat, looking at Steve's twisted grimace and face.

"I'm not sure about the language nowadays but I think I got close..." Steve mumbled just loud enough for Clint to hear above his laughter.

"You mean the poker face." Clint choked out.

Steve snapped his fingers and did a victory cheer, emitting another laugh from Clint.

When everything was at peace again, there was a comfortable silence between them.

"So… how did that feel?"

"Better. Thanks a lot." Clint smiled gratefully.

"Hey, I did nothing. You're the one who did it. You allowed yourself to open up to me. You allowed yourself to just open your mouth and laugh. You can do it, Clint. You can. You just need to think ahead and nothing else. The past is the past. What you really need to do now, is to look forward and do anything to move ahead. Push and fight the away other things that will slow you down. Crawl if you need to. If you need your arms, use them. Don't waste them. You have everything here. Us, the avengers. Nothing can slow you down if you have the will. Nothing can push you forward if you just want to stay put. You are the key, Clint. Whatever, wherever you want to do or to go, no one will blame you. But remember, you have everything that you want here. Even if you only have your arms. At least, you're not blind. Are you dumb? Are you like confined here? No! You can do it. Create new experiences and… don't regret . Don't do things that you will regret. Regret is the worst mind torture one can get." Steve smiled softly.

"I hope I'm not talking too much. But please, think about it. Everyone is trying so hard to help you. Thor had gone back to Asgard to get you some healing potions. Tony and Bruce are at their lab, trying to come up with something that can help you walk. Natasha is back with SHIELD, collecting some equipment that Tony and Bruce needed. And it is my job, to push you. However, with much effort that we are putting in, if you refuse to budge, we can do nothing. So, Clint, don't disappoint us."

With that, Steve gave him one last hopeful look at Clint, leaving him pondering about what he had said.

_I am the key…_

* * *

**I hope that i inspire all of you to work hard for your dreams and never to give up. You have everything and some people are worse than the situation you are in, so don't keep complaining (like i used to) and run forward! XD**


	7. 7 Maybe

**There has been a decrease in readers and reviews lately. Is there something wrong or i'm just being paranoid? hmm, But nevermind. **

**This chapter is about Clint's thought and tell me if you all like the way it is written. And whether i should write more of this format. :)**

**Thank you for all reviewers and readers~ I may not be updating very often but here you are, supporting me all the way. Thanks a million! I may not know you, but i still love all of ya! **

**Maybe**

Clint stared out of the window, enjoying the magnificent view. It was dawn and the sun was rising. The way the sky showed hints of blue, then like a cat slowly stretching up, more colors were introduced. Simply said, it was breathtaking.

Slowly, the roads were beginning to fill up with vehicles while the train, with people packed like sardines, rode overhead.

_People were getting to their feet and starting the day ahead of them. _

Everything seemed normal, getting busy, do your routines.

Clint wondered if he had a routine now. With him getting crippled, what is he going to do?

_What is he supposed to do?_

He shook his head to get rid of the bad thoughts and relaxed against the thick and soft bad. Well, he could get lots of rests now. He could sleep better and do things that he had never manage to do.

Like a normal person.

'Normal.' The word sounded so plain.

Maybe he could splash a few colors into his life. With his personality, if he just sit there and do nothing, he may just die. Even if he was crippled, there are still a lot of things that he could still do.

Yes, that's it. Good thoughts. God, Steve would be so proud of him.

Maybe he could still practice archery. There will be some adjustments to be made, but he thinks he can manage it.

Maybe he could still give some opinions and suggestions before the Avengers go for their missions. Steve can handle it pretty well, but he could help them to calculate the Math needed.

Maybe he could cook for the rest of the Avengers when they come back from their missions. Despite his looks, he could cook pretty well. There will be some trouble in buying the groceries, but he can easily ask someone to accompany him… Steve or Bruce seemed more likely.

Maybe this is the time for him to _learn. _Seriously, he should read more. He could not just let his English rust away when he learnt it in the pain filled way. He remembered the lashings he received when he could not pronounce or had his spelling wrong. He shuddered. No, don't remember, Good thoughts.

Maybe this is the time for him to get closer to everyone. This time, there will be no awkward silence or clearing of throats. It wasn't like he was shy or whatever; he can joke, make small talk or even goof around. It's just that he tend to wait for people to warm up to him before the real person inside him emerges out. Basically he is the _slightly_ better behaved Tony Stark. Natasha sometimes has to punch him to get her point across.

Maybe he this is the time for him to be more appreciative. He realized the importance of support, without Steve he may be still bawling his eyes out. He realized the importance of his legs, he wondered if he will be able to feel the wind caressing his cheeks, the feeling of his feet pounding on the ground, to be able to run… To be able to push off the branches by branches as he climbed higher and higher.

_But now, it's too late. _

Clint breathed in deeply. He felt accomplished.

Time to change those 'Maybe' into actions now.

What that is left is to write everything now. In that way, he could keep track of the things he had done. What is that called? _A journal._

He remembered saying to himself that keeping a journal was useless as he doesn't have the time. It also means having emotions. Hawkeye couldn't afford feelings.

_But now, everything changed. _

When SHIELD found him, he realized a lot of things, learnt from new experiences. All thanks to his handler, Phil Coulson.

He remembered the times when Phil actually panicked. That time the situation was not fun at all. Phil actually thought that he was dead. But he was Clint Barton after all, he can't just simply die.

Yes, Clint was attracted to Phil, but after much thought, he realized that he was new to people treating him _like a person_, and when someone actually cared about him, he just got confused and thought that was affection.

However, there was still a tiny part of him that wanted _something _from Phil…

"_What do you expect from him? Love? Se-"_

"_Nat!"_

"_I'm stating the truth." She raised an amused eyebrow and prepared to leave for her training._

"_Or," she whispered, bending down, "You should get a few days leave. The stress is getting into you."_

_Clint had notched an arrow, its aim clear and steady, "Get out. I'm never going to say anything to you, ever."_

_Natasha had just smirked and strolled down the hallway._

He smiled fondly at the memory.

Then he frozed.

He had not seen Phil…

Did he know that he had woken up? Had he been notified yet?

He should ask later…

There's nothing to be so worried about.

Clint bit his lips.

_But what's with the emptiness gnawing at his heart?_

* * *

**Review please~**


	8. 8 Something

**Sorry for not updating for such a long time! Really, really very sorry! I had some family problems to settle and i'm back. :) I'll try my best to update, i promise! I enjoy writing and i stopped because i don't have the time. Views and reviews it just a factor that push me. I won't just give my story up like that.**

**Hope that you enjoy this chapter! I kind of rush this and i'm not sure if my writing skills had deproved(if there's a word to describe it).**

**Something**

His stomach gave yet another painful squeeze as he hacked up whatever that had been in his stomach just five minutes ago.

Someone was rubbing his back but Clint barely acknowledged it. He lurched forward as another wave of nausea hit him. Tears seeped out of his tightly closed eyes and he gave a chest rattling cough.

He dry heaved for a few minutes and when he decided that his stomach wasn't going to turn against his stomach _again_, he slumped backwards bonelessly.

"Relax, Clint. It's okay."

"My _ass."_ He growled out.

There was a chuckle as Steve appeared in his wavering vision. "Come on, let me get you cleaned up."

Clint nodded and sighed.

"Erm… Clint?"

"Yeah?"

"Your hand…"

Clint peeked out under his eyelashes to see his hand, cut out of circulation, still clawed against the toilet seat.

He blinked. "I need help here… I think my fingers are cramped. I can't move them."

There was a stifled laugh which Steve failed to cover it with a cough and gently pried them away from the poor toilet seat.

After five 'crack' of knuckles, Clint winced and flexed his newly freed hand, cursing a few colorful words out.

"Hey, stripes and stars, how's Legolas?"

Steve rolled his eyes at _that_ voice.

"Do I look like have two _pointy ear_s to you?" Clint barked back.

"I take that you're alright, then."

"What do you think, shell head?"

"Clint," Steve nudged him, "Just ignore him. I've get you wash up."

"I'm trying to." Clint seethed, putting more than enough force on Steve's shoulders to boost him onto his wheelchair.

Steve didn't complain but just sighed as another round of Tony's smart mouth could be heard from the door.

"Oh shut up before I make sure you can never voice anything _ever again." _Natasha's pissed voice was heard. It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

_That_ did the work.

* * *

"So, how is he?" Thor tried to keep his composure as Bruce finally emerged out of Clint's room.

"He's just a bit shaken up and I've managed to get his fluid levels back to normal. He mustn't take anything that is hard to digest. His stomach is still a bit raw."

He let out a sigh of relieve, his eyes full of guilt.

"Thor, it is not your fault. You just tried to do the best for him."

"But I am the culprit who got those herbs from Asguard, I got wrong. Those herbs aren't meant for humans at all."

Thor shook his head and with a swift turn on his heel, he disappeared down the hallway.

"So now what?" Steve sighed.

"Tony and I tried to find ways to try to mend his back, but… there's nothing! It isn't just his spine that is injured. His leg tendons are literally messed up. The nerves are _broken_. His body could not manage the pain and it just… "Bruce waved his hands to emphasize.

"But there is _something_ that could be done right?"

Tony clenched his fists. "There is nothing. We ran experiments after experiments. Tests after tests. But- There. Is. Nothing. You hear me, you dumb mass of flesh!"

Steve towered over Tony, "You-"

"Even SHIELD is not giving any response at all…"Natasha whispered. Her once collected and confident posture gone.

Everyone looked at each other. Anger suddenly dissolved into thin air.

Then all at once, they turned away, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

From the other side of the door, Clint raised his head to gaze at the moon.

It was so full, so bright. So _tempting._

He reached his hand out as if to stroke it.

But his lips trembled and he dropped his hand back to the mattress.

_There is nothing that could be done._

* * *

**Reviews are very very appreciated~**


	9. 9 Puzzlement

**Please do give me your opinions and views! Thank you to everyone of you! Remember to review!**

**Puzzlement**

Clint winced and froze in motion as his wheelchair gave yet another squeak. It wasn't loud, but still it is counted as a sound; a noise that wasn't supposed to be heard in the first place. Damm this wheelchair and the polished tiles of the stark tower that seemed to always create unwanted friction. Breathing out slowly, as in slow motion, he clutched the wheels and gave a weary push. Smiling in satisfaction as the chair rolled on soundlessly.

After a few more abrupt squeaks and turns, he reached the automatic sliding doors and finally… out in the open. This was the first time he was outside since he woke.

The cool wind ruffling his hair and caressing his cheeks, the fresh night air expelling the cloth that seems to block his mind. He suddenly felt refreshed, alert and… _alive_.

He stretched his arms and neck, enjoying the rush of blood as his vision sharpened and he was seeing objects that he didn't notice when he was in his room.

_The cracks that ran through the opposite building that has yet to be repaired. _

_The slight peeling of paint of the warehouses._

_The little alley that ran through behind apartments._

_The little garden owned by private housing estate few metres away from the docks. Maybe the family owns a-_

"What are you doing here?"

Clint cursed under his breath for being too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear anyone sneaking up on him. He totally hated the idea of someone doing things right behind him while he remained oblivious.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed, little hawk?" the voice asked again.

Clint sighed, "Need to be outside."

"I think there's more." Thor appeared in his vision as he made himself comfortable at the edge. He did not look like he was leaving anytime soon.

Clint remained silent. His thoughts drifting away as he remembered the main reason for having the sudden desperation for the contact of nature.

Yes, he was desperate.

Every single night, once he close his eyes, those screams and images will appear. And it gets worse everyday. The voice is always there. His laughs echoing through his mind as he jerked awake. Panting and in a pool of cold sweat, rubbing his arms to get rid those disgusting touches that lingered. When he looked at his hands, he expected them to be caked with blood. He felt dirty but there wasn't anything. His hands were clean. His surroundings were dry.

"Is this about your memories?"

He flinched. Was he so easy to read?

"Don't worry about them, Doctor hulk says that they will be coming back soon."

"Unless…" Thor continued, a passive expression on his face, "You're having trouble with them?"

_Bingo._

Clint finally surrendered and sighed heavily. "I am remembering bits and pieces here and there. But they don't make sense at all. They were just a few metres away from me and whenever I try to catch them, they just… disappear. I- I don't know what's going on in my head! I don't understand!A man will always appear, but i can't see or recognize his face! He-"

Thor placed his large hands on the agitated handicapped archer's shoulders, trying not to notice how much those once muscular and broad shoulders have shrunk into bones and just flesh.

"There isn't a need to pressure. Give yourself time and they will come back eventually. What you need to do now is to just relax and heal. You don't want everyone's efforts to go to waste, do you?"

"But… the nightmares…"

He was so soft. His confession barely a whisper that escaped Thor's ears.

It took the God of Thunder to realize what he meant and he suddenly _understood_.

He felt pure rage filled him and his fingers itched for Mjölnir. The sky became restless, clouds moving rapidly.

"Thor?" Clint blinked, not understanding Thor's sudden change in attitude.

"Get inside." Was all Thor growled as he jumped off the building, his cape bellowing behind him, leaving a bewildered Clint.

"Barton?"

_Great, another one._

"Bruce?"

"What happened? I saw Thor…"

"I'm not sure. He took off suddenly."

Clint braced himself for the question that he was hundred percent sure Bruce will ask. However, the doctor just glanced at him before getting hold of the handles of Clint's wheelchair.

"Come on, I'll get you inside. A thunderstorm is approaching. My senses tell me it's going to be a heavy one."

"Yeah…"

Clint couldn't help but take one last look where Thor flew off.

_What is wrong? _


	10. 10 Change

**I AM SO FREAKING SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! I am so sorry! I just finished my exams and it was just so great! I suddenly felt that i could fly again and- **

**Ahem ahem. Sorry about that. i was just so happy that i won't be having any exams until the next year. I promise to update for often, so please don't give up on this story~!**

**Hope that i had not degrade my writing skills and enjoy!**

**Change**

There was a deafening 'Boom!' as dirt and soil flew up upon the large impact. The once calm and clear sky was overtaken by dark clouds as the sky cackled with energy. The air was suddenly active and the people of Asgard froze.

A figure loomed from the crash site and as if a switch being clicked, a pathway was formed silently amidst the once loud and busy crowd. All of them kneeled and bowed their heads until they kissed the ground, not daring to even glance a look at the God of Thunder.

Thor was furious.

He knew that he was scaring his people, but he didn't care. All he knew was the rage bubbling inside him. He stormed through the pathway, aiming for only one place, looking for only one person.

_Loki_.

* * *

"Look, just leave me here. I am the most pathetic-"

"Glad that you know." Natasha interjected calmly.

"-And useless man in the whole wide Earth!" Tony continued, without giving any signs about hearing what Nat had said. "Go on, just leave me here."

Bruce and Clint did not bother to hide their smiles behind their hands.

"Tony… it isn't that bad. If we can work together, it may just work." Steve tried to soothe the agitated man down, but it was not working.

"No, no! I mean it. Just leave me here. I'll just drag you all down-"

"Should I end your misery then?" Nat cut in again coolly.

"No. I shall not burden you, if I want to; I'll just jump off the building, lest people accuse you of murdering the Great Tony Stark."

"Oh, now you are the Great Tony Stark? More reasons why I should _help you_ end your life. And, don't worry; all it takes is one quick twist of your neck; in one second. There will not be enough time for your sissy scream to work its way out of your smart mouth." Nat smiled, drawing closer and closer to Tony, flexing her hands.

Tony gulped.

"Hey, hey." Steve slid in between the pair. "Chill and— Clint, Bruce! Why aren't you all helping instead of just sitting and laughing by the side?"

"I- I just could not imagine that- that all these started out with a simple- attempt to cook!" Clint choked between breaths.

Well, it was true. All of them had been hungry and bored out of their minds. Finally after some discussions, they had decided to bake a cake. It was simple enough: get a recipe, buy the ingredients and follow the recipe accordingly and tada! They get a cake!

All was smooth until they came to the stage to cook and to add the ingredients together.

Long story cut short, Tony messed it up and the kitchen became a floury and sticky mess. The floor and walls were splattered with wet cocoa and the printed recipe was left forgotten on the table, the ink only half visible. Not to mention they are covered equally with their share.

Tony grimaced and had immediately called in Jarvis to clean up the mess, but all the loyal machine had replied was, "My apologies, Sir. The kitchen needs special equipment to make sure it returns to the previous state. I am not made and designed to do this, Sir. I do not have the ability."

All of them face-palmed.

* * *

Tony and Steve started on the floor, while Bruce cleaned up the tables and Nat wiping the walls. Clint was washing the used equipment.

It took about an hour to scrubbing and wiping but at last, they collapsed onto the couch, all showered and cleaned, with the exception of Tony and Thor.

Thor was still nowhere to be seen and Tony was still in the bathroom, cleaning Clint's wheel chair.

"Well, that was…. was… a good experience." Steve started on a good mood.

"I believe the right word would be traumatic." Nat stated drily.

They cracked up again and Steve tried to protest but Thor entered the room at the same time.

"Thor." Bruce greeted but Thor's did not seem to hear. Instead, he looked at Clint before heading to his own room.

It was a one second glance, but it had Clint stunned, the jovial atmosphere dissolved into thin air. It was glance filled with sadness, burden and apology.

_Why was he apologetic?_

_Why was he looking like he had a whole load of burden on his shoulders?_

"What had happened to him?" Steve worried tone cut through Clint's haze.

"Hey, guys!" Tony cheered happily, "Look! I even polished the wheels!"

Silence was his only answer and his mood died out, glancing from one face to another, trying to find the reason for the change in atmosphere.

What seemed like an eternity, Tony dared to speak up again.

"Anyone want a take-out?"

"Oh, Tony." Steve sighed,_ "What am I going to do to you?"_

* * *

**There is a reason why i put a 'cooking' scene in. Can you all guess the reason why? :)**

**Thank you for the reviews and alerts and favorites everyone! Love ya all~~**


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